


secret smiles and pathetic attempts at hiding them.

by dandeliondokyeom



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff I guess, High School AU, JunHao - Freeform, M/M, basically i am projecting my love for minghao onto junhui and my love for junhui onto minghao, but I love him so much, can you blame him though, confident gay junhui, i think he would hate me if he ever met me and i would just cry, junhui is a cocky mf in the most shameless way, junhui is kinda really infatuated with minghao, junhui is y'know but in bold, minghao is literally a blushing mess, minghao is y'know, minghao’s lips get ‘colonised by a bashful grin’, one line says ‘dancing to a song of glee’ and i swear i mean happiness not the fucking show, panicked gay minghao, this entire story is basically just flirting and blushing, unrelated but i am terrified of minghao like genuinely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandeliondokyeom/pseuds/dandeliondokyeom
Summary: Minghao is patient, a little bit of a bad actor, and a lot entranced by Wen Junhui.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	secret smiles and pathetic attempts at hiding them.

**Author's Note:**

> hi again! i know i only posted yesterday but i finished this story and wanted to share it! it's a prompt i thought of like a year ago but only wrote now so hopefully my writing is something past-me would be satisfied with. also i wrote this in two days so don't expect too much. anyways, have fun!

Minghao prides himself on three things specifically; the art he can create with his two hands when given a brush, a canvas, and an idea; his ability to capture life’s candid moments through a camera in a manner that looks as though it could only be planned; and his impressive patience that is so extensive he sometimes doesn’t even believe it himself. 

It’s this patience that allows him to calmly put down his book when he’s interrupted in the middle of reading, it’s this patience that allows him to only smile when his grandmother accidentally sits on his glasses, and it’s this patience that allows him to put up with the insistent shitty pick up lines thrown his way almost every single day by a very persistent and very eager Wen Junhui. 

-

Class hasn’t even started when Junhui turns to face Minghao, donning a stupid, genuine grin as his arm is slung relaxedly across the back of his chair. 

Knowing what’s coming, Minghao sharply inhales, feigning something suspiciously similar to annoyance. Either Minghao is nowhere as good of an actor as he had hoped, or Junhui just simply gives no shits, because his smile does not falter in the slightest. 

“Good morning, my dearest Minghao. How are you today?” His voice is smooth, teasing, drawn out and inherently sarcastic in the most genuine manner. He says it jokingly, though the question is still there, still strong, still begging to be answered. Junhui, really, has a habit of saying genuine statements under a mask of nonchalance, as though he doesn’t care, as though it’s nothing but a silly little joke to him. 

He cares. And maybe, just maybe, it makes Minghao melt a tad (but you didn’t hear that from him). 

In spite of the warmth that spreads in his chest at Junhui’s question, Minghao gives an exasperated roll of his eyes. He doesn’t mean it, not at all - far from it - but ultimately, he views it as safer to just pretend - keep pretending - that he doesn’t feel his heart skip a beat whenever Junhui so much as glances in his direction, and doesn’t have to suppress a wide smile at the shitty yet strangely endearing pick up lines he always proceeds to send his way. 

Lightly shaking his head, Minghao wills his voice to hide the delight in his heart when he responds with, “I’m good, thanks. You?” 

He can already sense the flirtatious aura that’s surrounding Junhui, ready to pounce on and suffocate the words seconds away from leaving his lips. 

“Ah, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that, HaoHao. I, myself, have sensed a significant improvement in my day since I was blessed with the ability to see your gorgeous face,” he drawls, gently, flirtatiously, in a voice so sickeningly sweet Minghao fears he’s going to get a toothache. 

Minghao, really, can’t help the smile that wants to creep onto his lips. Before it even gets a chance to blossom upon his lips, though, Junhui is starting again, and the words he says renders his brain unable to function. His thoughts halt, his brain short-circuits, but that’s neither here nor there, because his cheeks are accommodating an eager pink that he can’t do anything about. 

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together,” Junhui, terribly, attempts to flirt, sounding so fucking proud of himself for such a shitty pick up line that Minghao’s kind of, really softens. 

He’s not taken by surprise at Junhui’s words, no - he knew something cheesy and stupid was inevitably going to be spoken into the air. Rather, he’s taken by surprise at the smile he doesn’t even mean to let grace his lips announcing its arrival to the entire fucking room. 

And what’s more, Minghao (in untrue Minghao fashion) lets out such a loud, startled laugh, purely at the sheer ridiculousness of today’s honorary pick up line. It’s surprised, taken aback, and as much as he hates to admit it, it’s bright and happy. 

Junhui’s eyes shoot open, genuine bewilderment apparent in every inch of his expression. They’re not even friends, yet Junhui seems so pleased with himself at being able to elicit such a reaction from the younger. 

The thought sends an electricity pulsing through his veins. 

Minghao never, ever reacts to Junhui’s pick up lines like this; always, he will remain with a stoic expression, not visibly flinching even in the slightest. Internally, sure, he’ll freak out a bit, but he lets absolutely none of that make itself visible to anyone. 

Maybe, though, Minghao should let his emotions make themselves apparent more often, because the simple euphoria painting Junhui’s face right now makes Minghao feel some feelings he has never, ever allowed himself to acknowledge within himself. 

This time though, Minghao doesn’t even try to deny it; there is currently a cluster of butterflies throwing a fucking party in his chest, and Minghao doesn’t have it in him to care. 

Plain as day, Minghao’s reaction inflates Junhui’s ego ten times more than it should, and the smile that’s worked its way onto his lips takes on a cocky edge, disguising the sweet accomplishment Minghao knows he is drowning in. 

Junhui sits up a bit straighter, cocks an eyebrow and gives a smooth wink that makes Minghao’s heart stop. It’s unlike anything Minghao was witnessed from the older before; sure, he’s always confident, but never so openly. 

Minghao can’t help but find it incredibly beautiful to witness. And maybe his blush deepens a bit. Or more. 

With his newfound aura of confidence, Junhui licks his lips before they dance into a smirk. A cocky laugh floats into the air seconds before he speaks. “So, what school do you go to sweetheart?” 

And just like that, Minghao’s loud and unrestrainedly joyous laughter breaks the flirtatious atmosphere in which they were previously submerged. He tilts his head back, scrunching his eyes shut at the sheer force of his smile, and his entire body is shaking. 

Something akin to comfort is running through his veins, as though it’s the sole reason for his heart beating. It seeps to every corner of his body until he is nothing but a boy with a bright smile, loud laugh and comfort in his veins. 

And maybe, he is just a boy that is enraptured by Wen Junhui. 

When Minghao finally catches his breath enough for his head to lean back forwards, eyes meeting Junhui’s once again, he finds that for the first time ever, Junhui is allowing him to witness a side of him he’s never shown; a side that’s sheepish, a bit awkward, and a lot of a dork. 

It’s kind of adorable, really, but Minghao won’t let himself admit it aloud; he does, however, paint the words so obviously in his heartfelt gaze and softened smile, so he’s not really keeping it a secret, as per se. 

Junhui’s probably too drunk on embarrassment to notice, though. 

Even when he covers his face with his hands, it’s clear to Minghao that his cheeks are dusted a rosy pink. And then he drags out a groan; one full to the brim with embarrassment and regret and wishes for the ability to turn back time or at least erase himself from existence. 

Minghao has never witnessed Junhui like act like this; so uncollected, unguarded, unplanned. And really, it makes Minghao’s heart grow fonder of the boy; frankly, he feels honoured to be able to be sitting and watching it exactly as it happens. Not hearing it retold in a story that’s gone through five different people, not even watching it through a screen - seeing it, in the flesh, in real time. 

He wants to reach out and ruffle Junhui’s hair, tell him it’s okay and that Minghao finds it really fucking endearing. And he almost does - he really, nearly almost does; he feels his arm begin to reach out, the words travelling up his throat and sitting contentedly on his tongue, but something - some-fucking-thing - holds him back, forces him to retreat his arm and swallow the words back down. 

A coward, he is. 

Instead, he settles on letting the smile linger on his lips and savours the happy feelings flowing through his bloodstream. But oh, when Junhui lifts his head and stares at Minghao with such a defeated and pleading look, as though he’s willing Minghao to forget that even happened, Minghao is hit with a surge of confidence. 

It’s almost as though the pair have switched positions - Minghao, now, seemingly the confident one, making the moves, while Junhui is the one drowning in a pool of embarrassment and blushes. Minghao knows it’s not going to last for long, and that soon enough, things will be back to normal, and as much as he loves their normal, he kind of wants to take advantage of this situation before it passes him by. 

He wants to be the one smirking, flirting with Junhui and watching with a fond smile as he’s reduced to a panicked mess under his gaze. And so, he asks a simple question, words dripping in so much euphoria that it cancels out the slight shake in his voice. 

_“Can I take you out?”_

____

__

-

Despite how fond Minghao is of Junhui, he’s never spoken to the older outside of their class; when he thinks about it, their entire relationship is built off of Minghao sitting behind Junhui in maths, Junhui plastering a constant smirk on his lips and reducing Minghao to but a blushing mess. 

And that’s why, as Minghao’s eyes land on the older seconds after he pushes open the cafe door, he feels his heart stutter at seeing Junhui in such a casual setting; what’s more is that Minghao has never seen Junhui wearing anything but their bland school uniform, and well-

It takes Minghao’s breath away - the dark brown hair looking so soft that Minghao thinks he’s just washed it, the oversized black hoodie that’s swallowing his torso, and the silver rings adorning multiple of his fingers. 

Wen Junhui really, truly could be a model, the way Minghao sees it; the perfect arch of his eyebrow, the soft pink of his lips and the warm brown of his eyes - it’s all, simply, nothing short of gorgeous. And Minghao will eat his foot if Wen Junhui cannot make absolutely anything look as though it’s designer - even a garbage bag. 

As he spots the younger, Junhui’s eyes soften and a smile finds it’s way onto his lips, and Minghao can’t find it in him to deny himself the pleasure of mirroring Junhui’s expression. Junhui’s eyes lock onto his form, he can feel it, even when he ducks his head to hide the blush dusting his cheeks and watches his feet as they take him to the table Junhui is seated at. 

He’s greeted by the older with a giant smile, one that makes Minghao feel as though Junhui is genuinely thrilled to see him. It’s strange, it’s foreign, but fuck, it’s so wonderful. 

For the first time in his life, Minghao feels wanted. And feeling wanted by Junhui is an experience unalike anything else he’s ever known. 

“Hi,” Minghao sheepishly says, mouth adorning the shyest smile he’s ever let shown, and voice dangerously close to crossing the line separating happiness from star-struck. 

And Junhui just keeps that gorgeous fucking smile of his. 

-

Junhui’s staring over at Minghao with stars in his eyes, roses on his cheeks and adoration seeping into his voice when he speaks. 

“You know, HaoHao, I’m absolutely honoured that you let me take you out. Finally.” 

Everything about that sentence renders Minghao’s heart alight. Junhui sounds - oh god he sounds so happy, so thankful, and the word _finally _makes Minghao’s brain absolutely cease to function.__

____

____

His blood, though, certainly functions, as it all rushes to his cheeks. And if it were anyone else, maybe Minghao would correct him, tell him that Minghao was, in fact, the one that was taking Junhui out, not vice versa, but really, Minghao doesn’t think he has the ability to do anything but crumble into an absolute mess. 

The word ‘finally’ rings through his mind, unable to escape the maze of his thoughts. And so, all Minghao can respond with is, “What do you mean ‘finally’?” It’s a genuine question, and though Minghao is ninety three percent sure he knows that the answer will be, the other seven percent attempts to ground him, to bring him down from where he’s flying into the sky with exciting possibilities. 

He supposes, though, he should know Junhui’s ways enough by now to predict that everything that comes from that boy’s mouth is drenched in cheese and predictability. 

“I mean, Minghao,” he starts matter of factly, straightening up and interlacing his fingers where they rest on the table in front of him, “that I’ve been wanting to take you on a date forever. I never thought the day would come where I could, honestly.” 

“D-date? This is a date??” Minghao splutters, secretly surprised at himself for sounding so coherent when really, the entirety of his being is in complete and utter chaos, dusted with panic and painted with disbelief. 

And Junhui’s smug smile does nothing to ease the matter. At all.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, sweetheart. I’ve certainly not kept my feelings a secret,” he drawls smoothly, voice teasing though Minghao knows the words are everything serious. 

Minghao doesn’t mean to be dramatic, but he sincerely believes he’s died and this is just his imagination. 

His imagination, though, couldn’t be so much of a prick so as to slap Minghao’s cheeks red with a blush that might as well be tattooed on because it never fucking leaves. And surely, his imagination would garner a more endearing reaction from Minghao, in contrast to the awkward panic that is taking over Minghao’s entire being. 

It’s a good panic, obviously, but when Junhui’s features contort into those of worry and guilt, smile vanishing completely, Minghao kind of wishes he was stronger when it comes to the younger. 

“Fuck - shit, I was just teasing you Minghao, honest. It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be, I swear. I never meant to cross the line or make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” He sounds genuinely hurt at the prospect of making Minghao uncomfortable, and though Minghao is the complete opposite, it still warms his heart. 

Junhui really is the furthest from one dimensional you can get, and the more Minghao learns about him, the more he finds himself growing increasingly fonder of him. 

Minghao’s eyes widen in panic and he hurriedly shakes his head, gaze sincere. “No, no - you didn’t make me uncomfortable in the slightest. I just - I didn’t expect it is all,” Minghao rushes to explain, as though he’s running a marathon, stumbling over himself with how fast he’s moving. 

Oddly, Minghao feels like he has a limited time space to set the record straight, like if he doesn’t hurry up and tell Junhui that he’s got it all wrong, then the timer on a bomb will strike zero and explode, blowing up whatever connection they share. 

He’s got the most important words out, though, so he takes a deep breath and gives himself time to ensure his next statement is full of sincerity. “No one’s ever…wanted to take me out before so I just…didn’t know how to react.” 

He’s sheepish, and god he sounds like a loser right now, but revealing his most shameful secrets and embarrassing himself is more appealing than Junhui thinking he did anything, anything wrong, and that Minghao isn’t fucking falling for the words he says and the ways they make him feel. 

Junhui doesn’t look like he’s even thinking about teasing Minghao for this, or even mentioning it, because his gaze is still so worried yet his presence is so calming, and he asks, “Are you sure?” in a gentle voice that weaves its way into Minghao’s ears, floats throughout his body and ends in his chest, slowing the rapid pounding of his heart that he didn’t even notice. 

He musters up whatever slithers of courage he can find within himself, reaches deep inside his chest and plucks the words he really, truly wants to tell Junhui, and keeps his voice gentle. “I promise, Junhui. I actually…it was kinda nice. I…liked it.” 

A smile, pretty as a flower and just as sweet, blossoms on Junhui’s lips. Minghao thinks he can feel a seed of happiness planting itself in his chest. When the smile comes, it chases away the stiffness of his shoulders, and Junhui relaxes back to his normal, confident and carefree self.

“I’ve never seen you like this before, HaoHao; so flustered and honest. It’s really cute,” he teases, a knowing smile tugging at his lips because he is fully aware of the effect he has on Minghao - fully aware and yet he continues with it, the prick! 

(Of course, Junhui is far from a prick, because maybe, there’s a part of Minghao that secretly loves just how speechless Junhui can render him.) 

So as to shield the embarrassingly prominent blush on his cheeks from Junhui’s attentive gaze, Minghao dips his head with a shy upturn of his lips. And if a small giggle escapes his lips before he can even think about stopping it, he doesn’t pay it any attention. 

Minghao, though, supposes it’s really not just that simple to hide his feelings from Junhui, because Junhui’s letting out a small gasp that sounds so pleasantly surprised that Minghao can predict exactly where it’s going. 

“Are you - are you blushing?” Junhui asks is disbelief, sounding so excited that Minghao is sure that he’s seconds away from jumping up and taking the younger’s face in his hands. 

Minghao, honestly, is just in a constant state of panic with Junhui, he realises, as his heart races and he feels as though he’s just been caught committing some heinous crime under Junhui’s watchful eye. 

His mind’s a mess, stumbling over each and every word he could say, every possible lie and excuse he could formulate in a timeframe short enough to not look suspicious. 

Ultimately, though, his mind doesn’t work quick enough when he’s in Junhui’s presence, and all he can come up with is a very eloquent, “Shut up.” 

He looks up through his fringe, only to see Junhui’s face absolutely alight with elation, eyes alive and lips dancing to a song of glee. And it’s in this very moment when Minghao realises he’s already so far gone, and that seeing that breathtaking smile of Junhui’s is worth every inch of the embarrassment crawling along his skin. 

Minghao’s actually pretty surprised at how open he’s being with his emotions when seated in front of Junhui; he can’t decide whether he’d prefer to be sitting with a forced neutrality to his expression, or if this - if ripping off the mask he puts up and showing Junhui the effect his words truly have on him - is better. 

It’s certainly scarier, but Minghao finds a certain comfort and safety in the smiles that don’t seem like they’ll leave Junhui’s lips any time soon, even when he proudly taunts Minghao in the most infuriatingly sweet manner possible. 

“You are, oh my god. I just made _the _Xu Minghao blush!” There’s a teasing lilt to his words, one that Minghao finds himself being enamoured by - so much so that his lips are colonised by a bashful grin he really doesn’t have it in him to conceal.__

____

____

Still, he moves to bury his face in his hands, an action becoming increasingly more common for the younger male. His hands are immediately met with a burning warmth that tells Minghao just how fucking bright his blush is. 

God, the world is just so unfair, isn’t it? Why must he be tortured so greatly, to the point of presenting as the biggest gay mess to ever walk the earth? 

Junhui, though - Junhui enjoys every second of it - of course he does, because why does Junhui exist if not to make every inch of Minghao’s skin burn with embarrassment. And he really, really is so obviously evil, because he just pushes further, worsens the blow. 

“You’re so fucking adorable, you know that?” 

For a second, one singular second, Minghao is sure he’s suddenly and tragically died, what with the way his heartbeat just ceases in its entirety. Sure enough, though, his heartbeat is back and quicker than ever a mere second later. 

The way Junhui makes Minghao feel is something the younger really isn’t used to - like, at all. He’s never felt this way about anyone, but honestly, he isn’t really sure what to classify his feelings for Junhui as. 

They’re certainly not platonic, Minghao is brave enough to admit that, but saying he has a crush on the older makes him feel like he’s in primary school again, gushing to anyone that will listen about the way his beloved looked at him for a second. 

The safest word Minghao can define his feelings with is adoration, he supposes. Because as he stares at Junhui across the table, drowning in feelings of bashful delight, he realises he really fucking adores Wen Junhui for all he is. 

(Though he tries to ignore it, Minghao thinks he can maybe recognise some admiration in Junhui’s eyes when staring at the younger.) 

“I’m not, I-,” he begins, trying to distract himself from the butterflies dancing in his chest, though swiftly, he’s cut off by Junhui’s eager response. 

“You are. And no arguments, or I’ll have to kiss you to shut you up.” 

Perhaps, contrary to his prior beliefs, Minghao has never experienced true panic before, because whatever the fuck he’s felt every single second spent in Junhui’s presence doesn’t even begin to compare to that which he’s experiencing right now. 

Minghao can’t find it in himself to react in any way that isn’t completely and entirely freaking the fuck out. Junhui was so obviously teasing him, flirting with him, so how the hell is Minghao to react? 

He feels like it’s both a blessing and curse. 

“Oh my god, Junhui, you can’t just - say that!” he squeals, dragging his hands down his face. The fact that Junhui is so casual about something like that - about kissing Minghao - really doesn’t do the younger any favours, because now that Junhui’s even mentioned it, Minghao’s mind is running a muck. 

Does Junhui want to kiss Minghao? Does he think about kissing Minghao? Oh god, what would kissing Junhui even feel like? 

But god, Minghao catches his eyes drifting to the older’s lips and oh, they look so soft, so inviting, so-

Minghao’s head is suddenly full of images of the pair, leaning closer and closer until their lips finally meet, and he can almost taste the cherry lip balm of Junhui’s the older is always applying during class. 

Not that he wants to admit it, but he feels a little dizzy at the thought. 

“Why not? Does it make you embarrassed sweetheart?” 

Minghao’s case is not helped by the nickname so easily thrown into the air, the sly smirk overtaking his lips, and the flutter of Minghao’s heart. 

For the first time in his life, Minghao discerns that he really fucking likes being called petnames at the hands of Junhui. 

“Wait - don’t tell me Minghao,” Junhui begins before Minghao can even think about formulating a response, sounding so delightfully surprised yet scheming that Minghao can’t help but dread whatever is going to follow, a strange fear tinting his chest. “HaoHao, have you…never kissed someone before?” 

He realises this fear is entirely justified when his ears register Junhui’s question. 

Oh no. 

What gave it away? The insistent blushing? The shy giggles? The surprised reaction when Junhui mentioned kissing him? 

Minghao is drowning in an ocean of shame, though really, there is absolutely no reason for him to try deny it. 

He knows Junhui can see straight through him, anyways. 

“Don’t say it so loud,” Minghao hisses, weary that someone else in this secluded cafe of whom Minghao has absolutely no relation to will overhear and judge him. “I- god, this is so embarrassing.” 

Junhui, like the angel he is, quickly registers Minghao’s shame at the revelation and the teasing smile slips into something more comforting and understanding. “No, no - hey, it’s not embarrassing at all, Minghao, it’s completely normal - you’re only seventeen. It’s really sweet, actually.” His words hold absolutely no trace of playfulness, only sincerity. It’s strangely comforting, like Junhui’s patting him on the head through his words. 

Minghao throws a half-hearted glare his way, one that is more sceptical than anything. There’s a small part of him that doesn’t believe Junhui, because really, how is it sweet that no one’s ever liked him enough to kiss him? But still, it’s Junhui, and Minghao thinks that he might just trust Junhui more than he’d care to admit. 

Always one for reassurance, though, Minghao hesitantly says, “You’re just saying that,” sounding a lot more vulnerable that he had intended. He knows his voice is somewhat close to a plead, or maybe a whine, but he just tries to ignore it and rather focus on the way Junhui’s putting his hands up, a small smile desperate for understanding working it’s way to his mouth. 

“I’m not - I swear I’m not,” he reassures sincerely, a sound akin to a giggle weaving itself into his words. With his eyes so innocent, Minghao finds he can’t help but believe Junhui’s words and allows himself the luxury of exhaling the stiffness of his shoulders away, feeling a little bit more at peace, further lowering his guard as Junhui lowers his hands. 

Until Junhui has to open that gorgeously taunting mouth of his again. 

“It kinda makes me want to kiss you all that little bit more,” he teases through a lopsided grin, eliciting a groan of defeat from the younger. It’s his own fault, though, because he should know better by now than to let his guard down in Junhui’s presence. 

He levels Junhui a stare, promptly attempting to ignore the shyness prickling his chest and threatening to work its way up his throat and out his mouth. It works, for the most part, because his voice comes out as exasperated rather than panicked as he begs Junhui to please stop. 

Maybe, just maybe, Wen Junhui isn’t that evil, because though he doesn’t drop that lopsided smirk, he does tilt his head to the side as it becomes something less teasing and more fond. 

Minghao tries to ignore it. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop, I swear. You can trust me.” 

Minghao raises his eyebrows, something playful igniting in him. As though he’s taking a leaf from Junhui’s book on Flirting 101 (though Minghao doesn’t necessarily categorise his words as ‘flirting’, as per se), his eyes wear a playful suit as he feigns seriousness. 

“You better.” 

He’s met with a smile that takes his breath away. 

Xu Minghao comes to realise throughout the rest of their ‘date’ that Junhui has an utterly endearing sense of humour - one that allows him to laugh at the simple jokes Minghao tells - ones that the younger has never received a laugh from before; he has a presence that enraptures Minghao like nothing else, something playful yet calm, safe yet dangerous, that makes his heart stop and blood rush; and, Wen Junhui has a really warm, soft hand, and his fingers interlace with Minghao’s perfectly, like they’re two pieces of a puzzle. 

Wen Junhui is really, really infuriating, with his shitty pick up lines, the cocky smirk Minghao rarely sees him without, and the endless teasing and flirting Minghao cannot escape for the life of him. 

Minghao finds, though, that he really, really can’t regard Junhui with anything but adoration, a smile and happiness - finds that honestly, he’s grown a fool for the goofy laughter, bright eyes and perfectly-imperfect hair. 

Minghao really isn’t one for poetry, but Wen Junhui’s words strike a match in his heart, birthing a bright flame that never seems to go out; Wen Junhui plants a seed of admiration in his chest that blooms, weaves its way throughout Minghao’s body until it may as well be all the bones in his body; Wen Junhui paints Minghao a beautiful shade of star-struck, makes him feel as though he’s a painting that depicts enamour in its purest form, proudly hung up on a wall as the artist just stares at it with pride. 

Also, Wen Junhui’s a really fucking good kisser.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! as always, feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you think, and follow my twitter if you want - @dandeliondokey. stay safe and thank you again!


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